Kill with Kindness
by Matter Falls
Summary: Tweek gets what he needs and wants. Craig hates that about him. The line that separates need and want is thinner than what both of them really think. (Un-Beta'd. Dedicated to the awesomeness known as kylekennypiptweek. Creek for the win, Ron!)


*waves stupidly because it's the only thing he can do*

**For kylekennypiptweek: **Currently, there's a war in my place, so classes for us have been promptly canceled by our department of Education, and since I've been turning my back knowing that I've got a friend all worried about me, I'm sticking to my promise. I'm dedicating this to you, uh, as a sort of apology for my weirdness. The others are still one-shots all blazing on my mind. Well, I'm hoping to not disappoint, Hermione!

**For James: **I have no idea if you're reading this because of the sudden exclamation on the summary. Maybe not. But you know who you are, mon ami, if you're ever reading this, I'm challenging myself to make you love Creek. But maybe you're not because I'm so annoying and all. *slumps down*

**For both of you: **The good thing is your favorite character is here. *fiddles with his bunny* You know... a particular afro-haired ninja. *glances at them teasingly*

**For everyone: **Alright. You have no idea who I am but let's get this Author's note over with, mon ami. *rubs hands* It's midnight and I have a whole set of chores tomorrow waiting to be accomplished which explains my untalented hands suddenly losing its nerves. *gets smacked* ANYWAYS, let's help each other, okay? If you love this story, don't be a silent reader and just fucking read it. I appreciate a feedback. Let's make a deal.

**But before that, meet Penny, she's my bunny and she's currently sleeping so she can't beta-read. She is demanding. That is all. *bows* **

* * *

**Chapter One: The Jerks and the Ugly **

Tweek Tweak was found roughly pushed towards the main door of his own home; earning him a loud and terrified shriek that surprised no millions as he struggled to fight back with all his knowing effort, but in the latest cases, was not even mildly noticed as his struggles were only responded by the tiniest bit of effect from the individual causing him his latest pain. The frantic blonde thrashed wildly as more individuals tried forcing themselves against the boy, pushing him outside his own household as he violently flailed against their throbbing and painful grips.

And to think that his own father had been the cost of all this.

"D-Dad!" He shrieked as he placed his arms on the frames of the main house's double-door, pumping himself back inside his house while the other group behind him forced against him outside. He pushed, they pushed too. For a slender and unhealthy teenage boy, being able to hold off a whole lot of bodyguards had earned him quite the pointed notice from the group. They all grabbed his limbs and pushed him out, as Tweek shuffled, panicked, to force himself in. "I-I said I won't go!" he shrilled.

"Now, now, Tweek," his father said patiently, brightly even, as he stood from his perch on one of the floors that the stairs had led the audience in. He stood, leaning against the railings of the house as bright chandeliers twinkled above happily, glowing bright yellow that couldn't have possibly have the chance of rivaling against his son's brighter blond tresses, which were poorly unkempt into wild fluffy manners. "We wouldn't want you to be late for your first day of camp, now." He seemed oddly buoyant about this.

"But dad!" his only son let out a high-pitched scream that would have versus to any rich spoiled brat out there. Tweek Tweak started to bite off the hands of his bodyguards who were going to the opposite of what they have verbalized just four minutes ago, "We're only doing this for safety—for your own good." It was all bull if they asked the panic-stricken blonde who started running just after it, and had now downed to this situation.

"I n-never even _a-agreed_ to this!" Tweek cried, and couldn't help the satisfied jolt that had zoomed into his senses as one of his guards let go—apparently giving up. "He bit me, sir!" The guard had screamed, sweat evident on his forehead as he slumped against the solid grand floor owned by the well-known business man of the coffee franchise.

The father of Tweek, Richard Tweak, smiled thoughtfully as he stared curiously at his bodyguards who wanted to slump down in exhaustion. "I thought you were already used to his behavior." He said wonderingly.

If they weren't wrestling with their boss' crazy and hyper-willed son right now, they would've glared daggers at the foolishly smiling man that was proudly entitled as their boss named Richard Tweak. It was a wonder why he had such a calm and composed demeanor around him, a total contrast to his coffee-crazy son who was biting off their hands like there was no tomorrow.

A sudden shrill had caused them to resume in their current task that their boss had so happily ordered them, "L-Let me go! Y-You guys are going to _eat_ me, and _oh my goodness_ I am _not_—" Tweek continued to ramble on as they tried to catch on his wild limbs that seemed to slip out of their grasps despite their iron grips. They'll give their utter praises of benefit to the wild blonde for that, but right now, their egos were at stake—their _salaries_ were at stake. Both, actually. "I have never agreed to this! I-I don't like c-camps! I don't even want to go outside my room! I don't even know what happened yet!" he shrieked as the possibilities went running through his head of what might happen to his favorite novel which he was not able to finish.

Richard chuckled. From where he perched, he suddenly noticed something. With an inquisitive glance at a particular object that had fallen on the clutches of his only son's book-bag, he called out. "Tweek, son, you dropped your book!"

Tweek froze, and before anyone knew what was happening, he crouched down low to retrieve his book—at the same time, his bodyguards chose to push him with all their final strength, and suddenly aware of the missing figure of the spazzing mess known as Tweek Tweak, had all tumbled in a mess of strong limbs over him as the blonde sat on the floor, hugging his book and shoving it in his messenger bag, muttering sweet nonsense to it.

Richard Tweak just smiled at the groaning noise that had erupted from the throats of his pained bodyguards, while his only son realized a chance and had effectively ran away into the deeper depths of their mansion—probably back to his safe haven, as he practically pranced back inside their abode, not before casting him a jittery glare and screaming, "Traitor!" at his face.

* * *

Tweek gasped as he stared helplessly at the figures that were slowly fading away as the transportation he was currently in started going in the opposite direction. He watched powerlessly as the figure of his father started waving happily to him as the bus took him further until he could no longer make up their figures. He almost shrieked in anger.

He swore when he returns from camp he will certainly assassinate his father with his fury.

Tweek Tweak was the only son of the famous coffee businessman and owner of Tweak Bros, Richard Tweak, and was often quite infamous if rather not accepted in the world of business, although every tale that had a coffee-addicted frenzy teenage boy as their star ended up not fitted in most of the population, Tweek had unknowingly became a child prodigy ever since he was still a kid and was horrified by the sudden attention, thus locking himself inside his safe haven—his room.

No one knows what he does in there, not even his own bodyguard whom he hates so much for stealing his favorite coffee mug the other day. Looking back, if someone had probably said that Tweak Bros would end up as a huge success in the future, Tweek would probably cast a shaky laugh at their face. Undoubtedly, as of now, it was unexpectedly a huge success.

Tweek didn't even know why he had become a child prodigy in the first place. At the thought of it, he seemingly had concluded that it was, in its own sadistic way, mocking him. He hated attention, he hated the whole population, and he hated people. People thought it was cute, though, _adorable_ even—but he wanted to go back to the generation where people would maybe look at him honestly and watch as the disgust blossom on their faces. It was all because of wealth, that's what currently mattered right now. Everyone had practically bowed down his feet just because of the money his father earns every day, and he hated those fake smiles that plaster on their faces as if they were even honored to meet him.

Tweek breathed in heavily before dreading on to see the occupants he was with in the bus. There was a reason why he despised going to that camp that his father had dumped him in, aside from being paranoid about the wonders that lay on the outside and his hobby to create a cocoon in his own home, the camp was an exclusive summer camp for the rich and wealthy, where they would teach boys and girls about the fun one would have outside. Tweek mentally snorted at that, it was nothing but a bluff to prove to the public that the wealthy people they've looked up to weren't afraid to get their hands dirty.

This generation was fucked up enough. The poor commoners that were forced to live outside the capital of the city were always the ones that were pushed around, the ones who were always spat on and despised by humanity itself. And the worst part was that they embraced it with open arms, which they really thought and accepted the rubbish that had bestowed upon them; that they would gladly kiss on the ground the other wealthy teenagers walked on if they ever had the chance. And the rich and wealthy? They were _enjoying_ it. There were probably bitches and asses everywhere, which is why Tweek hated it.

"Hey, look! Isn't that Tweek?" A friendly voice gushed though his senses, and suddenly caught him off-guard. Being the jittery and trembling freak he was, he had evidently banged his forehead on the glass window by surprise. A few snickers were heard and he was suddenly aware of the weight he was given—every pair of eyes were watching him carefully, scrutinizing his every move. "H-Huh?" he mumbled weakly.

"Hey, Tweek! Over here!" Tweek turned around in alarm. With a narrowed gaze, his eyes traveled to a pair of boys that were sitting comfortably in one of the right sides of the bus. One had curly red hair and was wearing an orange sweater, the other one had black hair and a beanie with a pom-pom ball on top perched on his head. He almost shrieked at their smiling faces, his expert orbs scanning their faces to see if they were fakes.

"Hi cutie," This time, Tweek wasn't able to hold in his terrified shrill and had essentially let out a startled high-pitched yelp. He turned around to find a male wearing an orange parka, a brown bandana wrapped securely around his mouth, slightly muffling his words, sitting in the driver's seat while he turned on the wheel and raised his eyebrows at the frantic blonde. "Aren't you going to sit down?" he asked in that bewildered yet amused accent that the boy had heard fairly clearly.

Tweek shut his eyes closed, before opening them wildly and gaping at the parka-wearing man, which he assumed was their driver. "I-I'm not a cutie!" Tweek shrieked disbelievingly, earning a few guffaws from their audience.

The mysterious parka wearing man cast him a weird look, seemingly utter confused at his statement as he glanced back at the road. "Oh? You're not?" he asked, bewildered, yet undeniably amused at the exclamation.

"O-Of course not!" he shrieked. Blushing red, he turned his gaze to the two occupants who were gesturing for him earlier, only to find out that they were practically laughing their hearts out—not only them, but the whole crew who were also in the bus and were watching the little exchange on their behalf. Tweek looked down in shame.

The parka wearing man sent Tweek a quizzical look, before pushing down a button, and earning him a surprised scream from Tweek as a mini-chair suddenly erupted just beside the driver's seat. "Well?" The parka wearing man prompted, sending a weird look at Tweek's way. "Kenny ain't gonna wait any longer." he said as he turned the wheel, abruptly causing Tweek to erupt another shriek as he crashed against the small seat. "Much better." Kenny nodded, satisfied as he expertly turned on the wheel.

Tweek looked confused for a moment before he arranged himself. "Your name is K-Kenny?" he asked, squinting uncomfortably. His hands reaching on his pockets to grab his pocket-knife as a thought resurfaced itself on his mind. _N-Never trust strangers, T-Tweek. _

"Yeah," Kenny nodded, a proud smile making its way on his lips, barely noticeable because of his bandana, but the curve was still visible. "I got a cool name, right cutie?"

Tweek looked horrified. "I'm n-not a cutie!"

Seeing that the mysterious driver didn't seem to have the nerve to listen to him, Tweek searched through his messenger bag as he tried to find his desired book. Inside his bag were full of books and various papers scattered on the soft leather pouch. From the infamous Harry Potter series to the rarefied of Capital Crimes and other various books and codex. Tweek crouched with his elbows on his knees as his fingers clumsily made its way to the pages of his book, shuffling them until he came to an abrupt halt on one page.

Tweek read the text as slowly as he could; occasionally going back to the text as if not believing if what he read was really in the book. He was not able to concentrate longer than he bargained for because of the noise the group of people were making behind him. This was not a normal bus, he grudgingly noted, it was like the form of a bus on the outside, but a fabulous limo on the inside—if that was possible. He sighed. Wealth on this generation had taken its toll. He wouldn't be surprised if the day after tomorrow there would suddenly be robots that will be serving as their personal maids. Tweek winced, he didn't like that.

_R-Robots can take over the world_, he noted horrifyingly.

Tweek closed his book softly and ushered it back to his messenger bag as he clutched on its strap. Fearing of nothing to do, he looked outside the aperture. He wasn't near the window, but he had a perfect view on it, seeing that there was no other seat across his right side—which was only the door leading to the exit of the bus. He fought the overwhelming urge to barge outside the transportation as he fiddled with his strap.

The door was transparent, so he let the freedom of his gaze run outside as he watched the blurry buildings and individuals that had passed as they sped on. His light burnt-sienna eyes watching as the hazy whirls of color drew him away from his boredom, but it did not make him miss out the details his quick gaze had earned him. Everything was like brand new, like newly polished and newly built. Everything was so well constructed and every structure was worth the taste. Everything was simply _expensive._

His jaw clenched as his limbs started to withdraw to its own familiar throb. It was a weird way how his mind and body connected and communicated with each other. Tweek Tweak was known to his family as one of the most stubborn individuals to ever set foot on Earth. (Not that he mostly did—mind you.) The sudden coffee need made him close to the proximity of having every possible phobia known to man, which did not amuse him furthermore. He often shrieked and was known to be quiet and shy, to which he is, unless he was suddenly provoked. His body language just gave it away.

Unfortunately, he currently was—by a guy named Kenny, no less.

"Hey, cutie," Tweek fell silent to that. He was already exhausted by the incident earlier in which he had to fight 'till tears against his five bodyguards who would do anything to please the smiling and calm face of their oblivious and wise boss. He mentally thanked coffee for that—or not. It was basically the same thing for him; coffee was he. He was coffee. Coffee was his happy place, or not. His own room was also included.

"You listenin', cutie?" Kenny called again in a weird tad muffled accent, but it did not hide the enjoyment that was traced on his voice. The blonde spazzed a little—it was his hobby, before giving the parka dude a small nervous peek, choosing to give up already and to listen on what he chose to blubber on.

"W-What?" he asked nervously as he continued to trace the lines of his pocket-knife. He was paranoid, but the mere comment couldn't change the fact that he even was in the first place. He suddenly remembered the coffee thermos he packed in his messenger bag, and went to grab his bag when abruptly, Kenny spoke again.

"I've never seen you around here before." He spoke softly, as if it was distant—sounding to ponder, even. As he stirred on the wheel while his eyes never leaving the road. "I usually know most of these teenagers; I grew up with them, after all." He said, basking in his new semblance of nostalgia. Tweek cocked his head to the side at this, so that meant that the driver was acquainted with them? He noticed his dirtied bandana was hanged on his jaw, covering his mouth, but he could hear him loud and clear.

A sudden realization set him off guard, he watched Kenny warily, before asking hesitantly. "W-Wait a minute," Tweek paused before taking a slow breath. "D-Does that mean y-you're the same age as u-us?"

Kenny looked at him, and for a minute there Tweek almost thought he had offended the man, until he released a hearty and boyish laugh. Tweek was shell-shocked. It was all the proof he needed—the driver of the bus he was riding on was about the same age as him, and the proof was the light-hearted and carefree laugh that had erupted from his throat as he regarded Tweek with an amused light shining on his cerulean orbs, almost hidden behind the fur on his parka hood.

Tweek suddenly noticed something. Kenny was wearing a weird choice of clothes, parka all tightly wrapped around his frame, with his hood up and bandana hanging on his face. Tweek suddenly pondered in horror at the thought that had passed on his mind, before settling down with his left palm on his lap. Awkwardly, his curiosity deemed the better of him.

"A-Are you…" Kenny visibly froze, as if expecting the answer. Tweek made a quick rewind to all the words he was going to say to the parka-wearing man—boy. Tweek chose to turn his head to stare at the blur of passing lights and colors outside as he blurted out. "A-Are you a jerk o-or not?"

Tweek shut his eyes in anticipation, already expecting that Kenny wouldn't answer him in the conclusion that Tweek had offended him. When suddenly, he was startled to hear another hearty laugh, with the amusement clearly evident in the tune of it, but this time there was also another lace to it, there was relief. Tweek turned his head back to Kenny who was wiping off tears from his eyelids.

"Oh, _damn,_" he muttered lowly as a few chuckles went escaping from his muffled mouth. "You are fucking hilarious."

Tweek frowned at this, his shaking not stopping despite the relief that had washed through him at the thought that he did not offend the young driver. "Y-You didn't answer my question…" he stuttered out lamely. Stuttering was always an unavoidable aspect about him, and he hated it sometimes.

His companion, however, had found this mildly adorable as his eyes twinkled against the fluorescent lights that the prized bus provided. "Well, will you do me the honor of pointing me out who are the jerks?" he asked as he finally trailed his eyes back to the road. Seemingly as if the bus was under his control and nothing was going to happen.

Tweek raised his hands in frantic gesture, his whole form trembling in a whole different reason at the start of the question. "T-They're the ones who walk around the place as if t-they own it." Tweek whispered quietly, in fear that the occupants behind him might have the chance to hear him and his little rant. He highly doubted that though, because there was the strange binding music of whatever pop artist was out there blaring on the transportation as the teens behind him danced and nodded their heads in rhythm.

Kenny's amusement for the boy seemed to topple its way to infinity as he raised one barely noticeable eyebrow at his direction. His eyes trained on the everlasting road that seemed to be busying itself with cars. "Oh? And do tell who are they," he seemed to get his message as he, too, chuckled. "I'm fairly interested." He continued in that mock snobbish accent that Tweek was absolutely aware with.

Tweek laughed quietly as he gave Kenny a shaky nod, "T-Them and t-their pride," he furrowed his eyebrows, shuddering. "They're j-jerks."

Kenny glanced at him from the mirror. Cocking him with another brow, he asked teasingly, "So basically every rich kid out there is a spoiled and money maniac jackass?"

Tweek nodded; satisfied that Kenny was able to get his weak insult, able to sculpt it into more explanatory words to fit their likes. "Yes. E-Everyone."

Kenny seemed to contemplate on it, before saying to him, "Not everyone." He mused.

Tweek seemed startled at his saying, before casting him a questioning glance. As if silently asking, Kenny continued on. "I'll be lying to you if I say that this camp is full of fun times and sunshine, I've seen these little kiddos here grow up into bitchy little spoiled shitheads, and I can pretty much point out the ones who didn't change," Kenny said.

Tweek nodded to this, feeling his guard rise up all of a sudden. A rich kid? Nice? There was no way he would ever believe it. "A-Alright?"

Kenny took this as a sign to continue on, looking at him through the rear-view mirror; he was able to point out the few people who were currently in the bus who were told as 'nice'. "See that dude with the red bushy hair? Yeah. That's Kyle Broflovski. Can you spot the guy sitting next to him? That dude's Stan Marsh. They're pretty tight," Kenny glanced at Tweek as he stirred down the bus into another street. "You might know them."

Tweek nodded numbly. Now that he knew their last names, he was pretty sure he recalled a moment wherein he was forced to attend a damn party, with tuxes and everything. He hated parties. For him, it was a celebration where rich spoiled numbskulls could bask in other dopes' and compare their money and wealth. He remembered the rumored duo of Broflovski and Marsh who were notorious for their so called friendship.

Kenny continued, "I've known them, and they're the best idiots you could ever meet." He nodded, satisfied when Tweek turned his eyes to the pair currently playing chess. A small adjustable table set between their comfy seats. Noticing a sudden gaze, they both turned and gave carefree waves at Tweek's direction. Tweek blushed as he quickly returned his gaze back in the rear-view mirror where Kenny was watching him, enjoyed.

"Done? Yeah, don't worry. And you see that other dude? That one who's wearing a Smurfs outfit?" Tweek's gaze trailed and spotted a weird looking boy, he seemed to be happily watching the Broflovski and Marsh duo fight their way to chest. He wore a sky-blue sweater that had seemed to be rather normal looking. Tweek was confused for a moment, wondering why Kenny called him a Smurf, before noticing his bright and shiny golden hair that was sticking up in his child-like face.

"That kid is Butters," Kenny grinned. "Leopold Butters Stotch; I recon you know him." Tweek nodded in recognition, before furrowing his brows. _I never knew the S-Stotch family had a son. _He pondered silently to himself as his gaze travelled back to Butters. He looked incredibly innocent in that smiling face he had to himself. Tweek noted as his body fought down his occasional trembling.

"Oh, and don't worry," Kenny gave him another glance, "He might not look like it, but he's definitely the same age as us."

Tweek gave him a shaky laugh at that, choosing to comment when suddenly, he felt another person's stare on him, he turned and found out that Kenny was the one responsible.

Kenny stared at him steadily; Tweek stared at him unsurely back, with the occasional jolt running down his system and the short shrieks that had threatened to gush on the pools of his throat. Just before he was sure he wanted to cut his gaze in pure theory that the man was going to hypnotize him into being his slave for his army of gnomes, an abrupt honk had rattled the two back to their senses as one of the individuals on board screamed, "Get your eyes back on the road!"

Tweek shrieked in a high-pitched shrill that made all the occupants cover their ears. In a rush of panic, he yelled directly into Kenny's ears. "W-Why aren't you holding the w-wheel!"

Kenny seemed unaffected by this, and put on a straight and serious face. Muttering low, he said in his muffled voice, "I can handle this."

Which had backfired when a car almost crashed into them, with the owner coming out of the window and cursing his fist at Kenny when the car had abruptly hit an innocent tree, Tweek almost screeched straight at Kenny's ears again at the sudden fear. At the back of the bus, the girls were crying for their lives in the spur of moment of dramatic fear, while a particular pair of boys was watching the whole scene before them. One watching carefully whiles the other watching contemplatively, their chess game forgotten in the midst of the sudden chaos.

Then suddenly, the bus they were riding on was about to hit an incoming boy who was riding in a bicycle—Tweek suddenly felt his whole body froze at that. It was a newspaper boy; selling newspapers and throwing them off to people's front doors was a rare job, and was only assigned to the poor in this generation. You could barely see one at the state it was right now, with the new and improved high-tech newspaper machines they had around town, all brand new and well.

"K-Kenny!" Tweek shrieked as the bus almost crashed the oblivious teenager. Feeling a rush of extreme horror at the helplessness of it all, Tweek shot up his hands and grabbed hold of the steering wheel, turning it around with all his might as it let out a blaring screech, successfully avoided to the crashing of the newspaper boy, but causing the tiny disadvantage of throwing all the occupants of the bus abruptly to the right with a loud and satisfying "oomph!".

Kenny suddenly reached forward and stomped on the gas pedal, Tweek almost thought it would break under the force Kenny sent his foot to it—drawing another loud and pitched screech from the tortured bus. The duress sent Tweek almost hitting the steering wheel if it wasn't for Kenny's arms that were around him. Nothing was heard after that, only the pants and the heavy breaths that were erupting from the teenagers on the bus after witnessing the incident.

"Hey fatass! Get the fuck _off_ me!"

"S-Shucks, that was too close, fellas."

"Oh my _gosh!_ I broke a _nail!_"

Before Tweek could make a move, a sudden shiver ran up from his spine, as Kenny leaned on his ear, and mumbling, "Well, this is comfortable."

Tweek widened his eyes at his comment. Noticing that his voice didn't seemed to be muffled, but before he could further on let the words sink to his brain as their position went unnoticed to the coffee addicted teen, Tweek suddenly made a face-plant on the ground as Kenny stood up and yelled buoyantly. "We're here!" he sing-sang.

"Hey, Tweek," asked a sudden worried voice, one he was vaguely familiar with. Tweek risked peeking up from his position, and found out it was that curly redhead who was gesturing for him earlier. "You alright?" he asked, sounding genuinely worried.

Tweek gasped as the raven-haired and beanie wearing one offered him a hand. Tweek sat on his knees as he dusted off his green sweater and messenger bag, noticing that he didn't have it had looked around frantically as the two men looked at each other amusingly. Tweek, not noticing this, had found the strap of his bag when suddenly; it was lifted and gently shoved on his fast-beating chest.

"I think you're looking for this," Kenny said merrily as he gave him a curious look. Tweek narrowed his eyes in realization, _He's wearing his bandana. _Tweek gave himself a confused bite on the lip. He was sure his voice wasn't muffled earlier when he was whispering to him. Or was it the mere tricks his mind had just played on him? _Must be from the crash, _Tweek thought as he unconsciously took the hand that was being offered to him, as he stood up and awkwardly wore his messenger bag around his body.

"Um, u-uh, t-thanks." He mumbled, feeling completely awkward and lost at what to do in a situation like this as Stan gave Kenny a curt nod, before grinning at him. Tweek watched the little exchange warily.

"So, where are you going next, Kenny?" Stan asked him casually as the other one, Kyle, went to the other end of the bus to get back his things. It was only then did Tweek realize that most of the occupants were already leaving, getting back their bags and exiting the bus, where they have arrived in their camping place. The only one left was a fat dude who was still sitting rather grumpily on his chair.

"Oh, you know," Kenny sing-sang as he leaned in the metal post inside the bus. Tweek suppressed a startled yelp on why the heck he never noticed that before, "Going to fetch back his royal highness and majesty," Kenny said with a light chuckle, noticing Tweek standing awkwardly in the middle.

"Hey, cutie, don't you worry. Papa Stan and Mama Kyle are going to take good care of you." Kenny said in a teasing voice as Stan smacked the muffled boy right on the shoulder and the other one glaring at him.

The fat guy suddenly spoke, "Hey Jew. Help me get out of here." Tweek noticed him for the first time. Wondering why he just did when he was _that_ big of a person.

Stan walked to the fuming redhead and the fat guy as they were preparing to bicker. With a deadpanned glance at the fat man's state, his raven brows shot up his forehead. "Like, seriously Cartman? You're stuck there?" he asked, bewildered as the seat-belt was impossibly hidden under the tons of flab that was pouring down his figure. "…seems like it would be better if we called a professional."

Cartman cast a pointed look at Kyle's direction, and Kenny immediately got the hidden message.

"Kyle," Kenny said slowly. Despite his voice being muffled, he could still be understood pretty well. "What did you do?"

Kyle glared at Cartman. "He was on top of me!"

Realizing the mistake in his sentence, the redhead speedily added, "T-That crash! It sent him tumbling on me w-while Stan and I were playing chess. He won't damn move so I made him sit the fuck down while I buckled him in," he muttered. "It'll teach him once in a while to just sit the fuck down instead of sitting on other people's backs." He glared at the fatass who was rolling his eyes.

"You're overreacting, Kahl." He said in that relaxed voice that made Kyle want to shred him to pieces. Tweek watched as Stan and Kyle reached out to each grab his pudgy hand and pull him with all their might. Groaning as Cartman continued to bicker with the redhead despite the continuous action. Kenny smiled as he nudged Tweek with his shoulder and with a twinkle in his eye, he said, "You're in good hands, my boy."

Tweek just nodded shakily as he continued to watch the duo attempt to pull Cartman, before giving up and dragging Tweek out of the bus as Cartman screamed after them.

"You're gonna fucking pay for this, faggots!"

* * *

*waves while smiling stupidly and patting Penny*


End file.
